Notes, Nonsense and a Caffeinated Crush
by JumpinPopTarts
Summary: There really aren't enough Tweek fanfics out there so here's my contribution! Its five years on and Tweek's miserable and lonely, until some anonymous letters light up his life once more...


Notes, Nonsense and a Caffeinated Crush – By Jumpinpoptarts xx

Chapter 1: Wanda's

Note: Ermmm…I was in a weird mood when I wrote this. Have no idea how it's turned out and its 2am so shan't check. You'll have to tell me after you've read it!

Ownership stuff: Nope I own nothing save the words in my head and the half-eaten Easter Egg at my side (yummm)

Warnings: I have decided that writing slash is fun. Some may appear in this story and will probably involve Tweek. You have been warned….so READ! XD

A roadside café is not the best place to drown you sorrows and this one was no exception. The tiny, box-like bistro, (named "_Wanda's_' according to the spluttering neon sign suspended on a pole outside) offering a grandstand view of the sleety grey highway, squeaked of cheap and nasty lino, greasy chips and mouldering disinfectant. It was about four o'clock in the evening, hardly the peak time for customers, and only two people were visible in the café's strobe lit interior.

One was the cleaning lady, a wiry woman in her forties with a gritted jaw and hair like a birds nest on a power line. Her supposedly cute waitress apron was now serving as a mop as she scrubbed irritably on the iron grey counter, occasionally throwing glances at her one and only customer. As she stared she wondered two things, first why he hadn't left by now and second how a kid his age could down so many espressos without exploding.

The other person, as you have no doubt guessed, was fourteen year old Tweek Tweak, huddled up against the smutty window pane and staring out at the drizzling clouds with a look of intense concentration on his fine featured face. The boy had been daydreaming since noon, having trudged all the way there in the cold and the slush to tuck himself away in a corner and order coffee after coffee until every single one of the other diners had left.

As the cleaning lady stared, the skinny teen sighed and ran a hand through his mane of vivid yellow hair; a habit of his still left over from pre-school. In truth, not much of him actually_ had_ changed since his eight birthday. Same small body, same huge mocha-coloured eyes, same shy, rare smile and delicate pixie features….same damn spazzing habit. Turning back from the window, he closed his little hands around his coffee cup and stared deep into the swirling black liquid as though it alone could give him the answer he needed. Finding none, he did as he had done with all the rest and swallowed it in one gulp, twitching slightly as the drink scorched his tongue.

"Gah! I don't know…" he mumbled to himself, setting the coffee aside and balling his hands into fists. "Will there ever be a way…? Gah! Jesus!" The bony frame spasmed silently for a second and the boy's sweet face suddenly sharpened with frighteningly unexpected anger. Fists crashed into the cut-price table top as the boy jumped to his feet with a yell. "Ohhhh I can't stand doing this! I can't stand it! Why do I have to be such a spazz? Nobody likes me -Gah!- anymore… nobody –Jesus! Aaaagh!- no one will ever…I just give_ up_!" Tossing two dollars down beside his mug, the trembling blonde seized his schoolbag and hitched the collar on his dark green coat high over his chin, storming out into the cold without a backwards glance.

The cleaning lady smiled and returned to her work. Yet another visit from the strange boy with the caffeine problem; he'd be back next week without a doubt.

Drizzle hung in depressing veils, layering themselves over and over until tiny dewdrops beaded Tweek's burst of hair and his coat weighed heavily on his shoulders like some great lumpy dog blanket. By the time he got to South Park, he was exhausted and blue with cold, wanting nothing more than to collapse on his nice coffee-bean-patterned bed and sink into sleep.

Yeah. Like that was going to happen.

He still had to bypass that grindylow that lived under the bridge on the edge of town, not to mention the goblins behind the bins at City Wok or the boa constrictor he was sure lived under his neighbour's old Volkswagen… Oh, and his parents would be mad at him for bunking off school again too.

Mad at him?

"Gaaaah!" The tiny teen screeched aloud, clapping a hand over his mouth quickly to avoid awakening the goblins or the grindylow. Today was a Wednesday, meaning that his dad would be experimenting with those extra-stimulating Brazilian Coffee beans again; home was the last place he wanted to be right now…

But where to go?

Not Stan's, nor Kyle's, nor Kenny's. Not Craig's nor Clyde's nor Cartman's. Not Wendy's nor Pip's nor Token's…

If anything had changed since Tweek's eighth birthday, it was his popularity.

Before high school, Tweek Tweak had never been the most sought-after kid in the class (no; that was Kyle, hands down) but he'd managed to muddle along fine, getting the right grades and hanging out with Craig's crowd from time to time.

But he'd been left behind.

Slowly but surely, everyone in his little mountain town had grown up. Pip lost both his accent and the silly hat, Kyle sorted out his flaming Jew-fro, Stan learnt how not to puke on Wendy (though nobody could work out exactly how), Cartman hadn't exactly grown thinner, but now had enough height to beat the crap out of anyone who said he was anything other than 'big boned'…even Craig had toned down his flipping-off fetish…a bit.

But _he_ hadn't changed at all. Every twitch, every silly little worry, every unexplained "gah!" had put him lower and lower in the friendship stakes until he hit the bottom rung and found he couldn't climb back up. That was that. By fourteen, Tweek was a loner, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Stark's Pond was frozen at this time of year, encased in sliver of misty ice, webbed with the beginnings of cracks where the water waited to burst through. Only idiots or bored Kenny McCormick's (hey, he'd be back from hell by dinner anyway) would go skating there, so that made it the perfect place for him to sit alone some more and think. Tweek skittered down the slope to the edge of the water and sat with one boot on the very brim of the icy surface. With a sigh he hunched up against the cold and settling himself, tossing mini snowballs onto the ice and watching how they shattered, spraying white stars across the bluish water. That was how he felt. Shattered. In a million lonely pieces with nobody to turn to who could put him back together.

Seven pm and the stars were already bright in the mountain sky, drenching the little figure of Tweek in their chilling silver glow. The boy shivered as he made his way to the door of his house, checking carefully that the ghoul under the mat had already gone out for the evening, before turning the handle and stepping inside.

The door hushed shut behind him and Tweek softly let his coat slide off his shoulders, hanging it up without a sound. Already, he could hear the hyperactive giggles of his parents from the living room.

"Try some of these…they've got a real zing!" more laughter and the clink of china. Uh oh. They were both at it now. He had to get upstairs without them noticing. Ahead of him lay the stairs. Just a quick run and jump to the first step and he'd be safe. One step forward, two…and j-

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" His left foot stepped down on something square and smooth, ending him toppling head first down onto the bottom stair with a crash and a screech that shook next door's double glazing. With his typical cry of "Jesuseffingchrist!" Tweek jerked upwards and snatched the offending object up from the carpet.

A letter.

Plain and rectangular, unmarked save for a single word typed across the front in red letters.

_Tweek_

A letter? For him? He couldn't even remember the last letter he'd been sent! Was this a joke? What if the underpants gnomes had decided to make a comeback through hate mail? Gah! What if they'd all hidden inside?

"Tweek? Son, is that you?" His father's voice made the blonde spazz jump out of his skin. Biting down yet another screech, he crumpled the letter up in his fist and made a mad dash for the landing, disappearing out of sight just as his father stuck his head out of the living room door. Seeing nothing, Mr Tweak gave a grunt and retreated back into the room where something that didn't quite smell like coffee was brewing.

His son, however, bolted for his room and threw himself over the bed and down the other side: the only place in his room that wasn't visible from the door. The wall and the bed had him completely sandwiched in shadow and finally, Tweek felt safe. Now for the letter…

The caffeine teen gave a little shudder as he smoothed out the crumpled envelope, peering closely at the computer-typed word as though wondering if it would reach out and bite him. It couldn't be a demon or grindylow or goblin; they couldn't even read, and the underpants gnomes wouldn't write in red ink…or so he hoped.

One slim finger inched under the envelope seal

_Gah! What if its hate mail from doormat monster? What if it's full of explosives to blow me to smithereens? What if it gives me a papercut and I die of gangrene?_

Only one way to find out…

In one very un-Tweek-Like motion, the twitching blonde swiped his thumb under the seal…

And screamed.

ooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOOOoooo

_Wait wait wait wait! It's not what you think! It's just a little cliff-hanger I put it because I'm a nasty mean little girl! Its going to be good I swear! _

_Anyway, if you don't believe me, add this to story alerts or (if I've put up the sequel by now) click the purdy little purplish button over that way and whiz off and see! Come on, you know you want to! X3_

- 4 -


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